


Stay Like This

by geekyjez



Series: Romance Meme [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk kiss, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, F/M, paint fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3748969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>She swayed with the force of her giggling and he moved with her, a little more steady on his feet as he held her upright. He wasn’t normally prone to succumbing to drunkenness, particularly when a slip of the tongue now could cost him dearly. But he could not resist her encouragements. There was very little she asked of him that he could resist giving in to, eventually. </i><br/>Isii and Solas get drunk together. What begins with a discussion on the hedonism of Arlathan ends with a mishap involving paint.<br/>Part of my <a href="http://geeky-jez.tumblr.com/post/110670088193/signs-of-affection-romance-prompt-meme">Romance Meme</a> from tumblr. Prompt: <b>Isii x Solas - A Drunk Kiss + A Promise</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Like This

Isii seemed unusually fascinated with his ears in that moment, giggling breathlessly as she nipped them with her teeth. “They turn pink when you drink,” she murmured and then laughed at the unintended rhyme, burying her face against his neck. She swayed with the force of her giggling and he moved with her, a little more steady on his feet as he held her upright. He wasn’t normally prone to succumbing to drunkenness, particularly when a slip of the tongue now could cost him dearly. But he could not resist her encouragements. There was very little she asked of him that he could resist giving in to, eventually. 

She pulled back from him, wobbling slightly as she turned, his hands remaining on her hips as she leaned forward, reaching for the bottle. He told himself that his hold on her was certainly just to help her keep her balance. Of course it had nothing to do with the way it made her brush against him as she bent over.

“You can taste things in the Fade, right?” she slurred. She then huffed out a laugh, smirking as she glanced back at him. “I mean, I know I could when you kissed me,” she added with a purr, “but can you taste memories? Do the spirits even know enough about taste to… to…. preserve something like that?” Her thoughts were a bit slow to form now, her words often fleeing her.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering about what they drank in Elvhenan,” she muttered with a shrug, turning back to face him, “I mean, did they even have alcohol? Every kind I’ve had came from the shems or the dwarves… or that Qunari crap Bull drinks.”

His smile broadened slowly. Secretively. “You want to know if the ancient elves got drunk? Is that truly what piques your curiosity when you can barely stand?” His tongue felt numb as he spoke, uncoordinated.

“I’m standing just fine,” she said, though in truth she was leaning her weight against him to prop herself up. He had no complaints.

“I’ve seen such things in the Fade,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “Seemingly endless revelries, hedonistic feasts that lasted for days, catering to all sorts of delights.” Her eyebrow arched suggestively as she brought the bottle to her lips,  grimacing slightly at the burn. “I’ve experienced the memories of those in attendance. Tasted their indulgences.” He took the bottle from her when she offered, downing another gulp. “Flavors far different from what the other races of Thedas make. Far better. A drink that tasted of honeyed cream, that would tingle as it slipped down your throat.” He illustrated, trailing his fingers along the length of her neck as he spoke, enjoying the shivering moan that teased from her. “But rather than losing your senses to it, all would be heightened. Drunkenness through stimulation rather than a dull numbing. Wines made to taste heavy and dark, sweetened with fruits that no one has tasted for centuries.”

She grinned, humming as her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. “Sounds like they were good memories.”

“They were,” he answered, grinning. He could not help but imagine how things would have been if she could have shared those experiences with him in Arlathan. Granted, he was a very different man back then. He would not want her to know that side of him. Yet the pleasures she would have enjoyed at one of his revelries - the mere thought of it was intoxicating in its own right. Impulsively, he leaned forward to kiss her but the weight of his movement pushed her off-balance, their lips locking as she staggered, bumping into his desk. There was a clatter as one of his jars of paint toppled over, spilling the green liquid over the surface of the aged wood, dripping down onto the cracked stone floor.

“Now you’re just making a mess,” she giggled.

“I did no such thing,” he said, bracing his hands against the desk on either side of her as she leaned back. She dipped her fingers into the paint, smirking mischievously as she dragged them across the bridge of his nose, failing to stifle her laughter. His eyes narrowed and soon she was squealing, trying to squirm away from the press of his hand to her cheek, stained as he drew her closer, capturing the sound with his lips. She retaliated even as she sank her tongue into his mouth, smearing a streak as her hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him against her, wrapping her legs around him as her arms looped behind his head, laughing as he placed a green hand-print on her backside. Her laughter against his lips felt glorious. Satisfying. He wanted to drink it in, to fall into the joy that she expressed so openly, to remember what it was like to be playful and silly and not so burdened by his thoughts. When he laughed now it was open and freeing, full-bodied and muffled against her mouth.

The kiss melted into something softer and their war to mark one another’s bodies ended, stilling until they wanted nothing more than their embrace. She pulled away from his lips, nuzzling her nose against his, even as it spread the stain to her own skin. “Promise me you’ll stay like this,” she whispered, her eyes closed.

“Covered in paint?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Happy,” she purred.

He paused, pulling back to look at her, a small sobering thought passing through his mind. He brought his forehead to hers, whispering his reply. “As long as I am with you, that is an easy promise to keep.”


End file.
